


Smoldering Embers

by Earth_Phoenix



Series: Fire & Ice [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Consorts - Freeform, Extremely Underage, M/M, No Underage Sex, Non-Consensual Touching, Sexual Slavery, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 09:45:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18247322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earth_Phoenix/pseuds/Earth_Phoenix
Summary: The Dark Lord has taken over the wizarding world and with the riches, come the spoils.Harry Potter is born into a life of poverty, his parents live in the 'Breeding Pens' and those who make it out, vow never to go back.There is only one way to escape the life inside the Breeding Pens, and Harry is determined to rise to the challenge.Part one in the 'Fire And Ice' Series.





	Smoldering Embers

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> Before you get into the fic, please don't skip this A/N. This one-shot looks at Harry before he comes of age. There is some *very* inappropriate touching that happens to Harry at 11. 
> 
> When we next see Harry at the start of the main fic, he'll be 17, so if you want to wait until the main fic is up, that's fine. You won't need to read this to understand the main fic, though you will miss some characters interactions, that may crop up later.
> 
> I want to be clear that I would never condone this happening to an actual child. (It shouldn't have to be said, but y'know, there are some really dumb people out there that need it spelled out for them.)
> 
> With all that being said, I'd like to thank my amazing Beta Dorea for doing a great job on this. Thank you, my love! <3

The first generation of consorts and concubines were fallen war veterans and their children. Consorts had the honour of wearing the collars with their owners' symbol, of walking freely in public. Favoured consorts were even allowed to vote.  Concubines were used solely for their bodies. 

It was after the first generation was deemed too old be of use that the Breeding Pens opened.

 

~*~

 

In the depths of breeding cells, babies were born into a life of sexual depravity. 

Men and women were paired together on the strength of their looks, in the hopes they would produce better, prettier children.

Dirty, empty-eyed children watched as the adults around them copulated. They played with sticks, brittle pieces of hay, the stuffing that fell out the ripped and stained mattresses.

The children of the pens had an unspoken hierarchy. Those who could fight and defend themselves and others rose to the top, while the weaker ones did their best to keep out of trouble.

Fresh food was scarce, the best given to the pregnant women and new mothers and the youngest of the children.

At the age of five, the children were inspected. Those who showed positive signs of having a handsome face were taken above ground, never to return.

Once there they were separated. Girls were taken to become concubines and in special cases, where the girl was especially attractive, she was taken to become a concubine for the powerful elite that ran the wizarding world.

Boys learnt to become consorts, the most desirable of the professions open to the children of the breeding cells. Trained in the arts of sexual desire, music, conversation, art and dance.

 

~*~

 

The breeding pens stank of sex and faeces. Young children ran naked through the corridors, the parents no longer caring if their children wore clothes, as long as they were out of the way. 

Severus hated visiting the cells, but duty called. He selected the children that looked to be about the right age to be inspected.

As always the children took far too long to be rounded up, his men running to and fro after the dirty, ill-mannered brats. It took even longer to get them to stand in a straight line. It was a miracle that these unkempt wild brats turned into the elegant, well-mannered whores that were so desired by the wizarding elite.

The parents lined the walls facing their offspring. Should a child be selected it was one less mouth to feed.

Severus walked down the row of snot-nosed children, several were just average, and while they could turn out better looking in later life, Severus prefered not to gamble.

He stopped before a boy with scraped knees, a bad cough and startling green eyes. Severus lifted the boy’s chin up with a gloved hand. The boy had sharp looking cheekbones already. With a better diet and training, he could make a concubine.

“Who are the parents?” He pulled the boy forward. The boy yanked his arm back fiercely, throwing Severus a glare.

“I am his father, Severus,” James walked forward, his wild black hair now past his shoulders.

Severus smirked, “I see you’re finally being useful Potter. I assume dear Lily is the mother?”

James nodded tensely, “She is.”

Severus looked over to his men “Make sure those two remain a permanent breeding pair, I want more children like this.”

He looked at the green-eyed boy; the child was going to need a bath first and foremost.

In the end, Severus left with five girls and only three boys. It was disappointing, but he couldn’t expect excellence from his breeding cells, it didn’t matter what his Lord said, he had definitely been given the bottom of the barrel.

He lead the group away from the cells, up the cold stone spiral staircase. He stopped when he got the top and turned towards the children. Many were crying, their faces red and ugly from the tears. A boy with a pet toad he had refused to let go off looked especially miserable. The green-eyed boy had hugged his mother goodbye but hadn’t cried. The child seemed more detached than some of the others.

With a flick of his wand, he conjured blankets. The children had never seen sunlight, nor had they ever played outside. The brightness of the outside world would come as a shock.

Once the children were covered, he opened the door and lead them to their futures.

 

~*~

 

Harry sat in the soft black leather chair in the Healers office, waiting for his yearly check-up. He hated being in the Healers office, it reminded him of the pens. The smell of sickness that hung in the air; the way the Healers looked at him. A mixture of pity and revulsion, as if he would never be able to shake the shame of breeding pens off him. 

It only served to stir the fire within him, the fire to prove himself. He would become a consort. The best.

“You’re fine.” The Healer dismissed him a wave of her hand and Harry slid off the chair and ran out of the hospital ward as fast as his seven-year-old legs could take him.

He collected his bag from outside the door where he had dropped it and trotted down the hallway. The Manor house he now lived in was much nicer than the pens ever had been. His bedroom had a carpet so thick he could lose his toes in the soft fibres. He was even served hot meals three times a day and was training to become a concubine.

Harry came to a stop before a set of ornate double doors. Inside was his art professor and Harry sighed. He hated art. In his hands paint became messy and bland. He was nothing like Zacharias who everyone cooed over because of his talent.

He sighed, there was no use waiting and getting a worse spanking on his backside. Being late to class, no matter what the reason, got you spanked with a cane. He knocked, waiting to be allowed in.

He pushed the door open at the annoyed ‘Enter’ and hurried over to the Professor bowing at the woman’s feet.

“Good afternoon Ma’am.”

“Stay after class Potter,” Professor Trelawney said airily, “Now, go take your seat before you fall even more behind.”

Trelawney was one of his favourite teachers. The Professor lived with her head in the clouds and seemed to drift around the manor house, talking to teacups and shuffling cards. Most of the adults could not stand her, but Harry rather liked her. While she was strict, she could also be kind.

Harry scurried over to his seat. Quickly settling behind his canvas. Harry screwed up his face as he looked at his ‘art’. What was supposed to be a beautiful still life painting of a vase of roses was - very not that. The roses looked lopsided and as for the vase...Harry sighed as picked up his paintbrush. He  _ really _ didn’t like art.

Class ended faster than it usually did and Harry approached Professor Trelawney, ready for his punishment.

“Why are you still here?” She asked, sounding surprised.

Harry fought back a smile, “You asked me to stay behind Ma’am, I was late to class.”

Professor Trelawney stared at Harry, “Were you?” she blinked, seemingly unsure.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Oh, well you’d better get going before you’re late for the next class.” Trelawney brushed him off, opening a draw where she hid her sherry bottles.

Harry bowed deeply, “Thank you, Ma’am.”

It was lucky Professor Trelawney had been so kind, because his next lesson was dance and he hated being late to that class.

 

~*~

 

The day Harry turned ten was the most important day of his life so far. He stood naked in the hospital ward, his back ramrod straight as Severus inspected him. Everything mattered now, Severus was only selecting boys that were worthy of being consorts. 

He held his breath, as Severus stroked his young cock. Harry desperately wanted to become a consort. Consorts were allowed more freedoms than concubines and were permitted to attend dances and plays, some were even allowed to wear robes styled in a much more flattering way than the humble muddy brown coloured linen robes worn by the concubines.

Harry’s professors were also present, to voice their opinions on if Harry was worth continuing to teach.

Harry silently begged the Professors to allow him to continue. He had yet to met any of the elite other than Severus and he couldn’t help but dream about what it would be like to serve one of them.

Severus’ own consort, an attractive redhead called Charlie, was dressed beautifully in figure-hugging black silk robes and hanging off Severus’ arm with an affectionate look on his face.  Harry wasn’t foolish to think he’d be lucky enough to get an owner that was affectionate towards him, but he’d settle for one that would treat him well. And maybe take him to watch a play.

“The boy studies hard?” Severus asked casually.

“He tries very hard and excels in my class,” Harry’s heart soared, his dance Professor Sinistra spoke up. “He would make a fine consort.”

“Agreed,” Professor Trewlaney added. “I have read the signs and Harry while has no talent as an artist is destined for great things,” her voice dropped to a dramatic whisper “before dying a horrible and agonising death.”

Severus rolled his eyes, “The day you actually predict someone’s death, is the day the moon lays an egg.”

Harry’s eyes followed Severus as he paced back and forth in front of him.

“He’ll do,” Severus decided. “He’s the best of an average bunch and dancers tend to be flexible.”  

Professor Sinistra quickly nodded her assent. “Correct and you know how well having a flexible consort goes down.”

“You’d better not let me down, boy.” Severus looked at him coldly.

“I won’t, Lord Snape.”

Snape humphed and left the room. Harry couldn't help but smile, he was going to become a consort! 

  
  


~*~

 

Harry ran into the bedroom he shared with Zacharias. His grin slipped from his face when he saw the other boy curled up in the corner, his body shaking with the force of his sobs.

“Zach?” Harry asked gently. “What happened? How did your inspection go?”

Zacharias looked up, his face wet with tears, eyes ringed red. “Snape called me ugly.”

Harry winced, “I’m sure he was just being mean, you know how he is.” He knelt next to the other boy, unable to help the thought that Zach was not a pretty crier.

“Snape had decided that I am to be a concubine, Lady Umbridge is coming to collect me tomorrow.”

Harry reeled back, shocked. “But - but you’re good at art!”

Zacharias shrugged, “Being good at art doesn’t make me attractive. Snape said he was done wasting time on me.”

Harry sat back on his heels, Zacharias in his eyes wasn’t ugly.  Zacharias’ long brown hair framed a square jaw and intense eyes. The only thing, the only slight flaw, was the scar below Zach's right eye.

It had happened around a year before, during winter. The stone steps outside the manor were slippery. Most people tripped or slid walking down them. Unfortorlty for Zach, he had slipped and fallen, cutting his face on a small rock.

Despite the cut being small, it was still a flaw. Consorts  _ had  _ to be flawless.

“You’ll still be able to paint though?” Harry asked quietly.

“I doubt it,” was Zach’s bitter reply. “Concubines are just whores, aren’t they? No one cares what they like to do.”

 

~*~

 

Harry was eleven when the news came that the Dark Lord was looking for new consorts. He’d been relaxing in bed, a book on ballet dancing on his lap when Neville came running in. 

The other boy collapsed on his bed, his face flush from the run. “The Dark Lord wants consorts - more than one! Harry, how cool is that?”

Harry sat up, dropping his book carelessly to the floor. “The Dark Lord?” He asked in wonder. To be the consort to the ruler of wizarding Britain was not a chance most got.

Neville sighed, “We haven’t got a chance, we’re not even sixteen yet.”

“It’s only five more years and who knows, maybe he’ll be looking for new consorts then,” Harry said hopefully, he bent over a picked up his book.

He fingered the spine, being a consort to the Dark Lord would be pretty amazing. It was a dream though, the Dark Lord had the pick of amazing consorts from all the Regional Lords, what chance did he have? And then there was Snape and Lockhart.  He’d have to excel in Lockhart’s classes before he could even dream of being a consort to the Dark Lord.

“I am looking forward to the demonstration classes though,” Neville said, lighting the mood.

“Same, I overheard Zacharias earlier saying that Lockhart had picked a boy called Lee to show us how to do blowjobs.”

“Do - do we have to really blow the dick?” Neville asked his voice uncertain, “Like, actually blow into it?”

“Maybe?” Harry replied. “I don’t see how that would be enjoyable, though.”

The boys looked at each other, confusion written all over their faces.  For all the fuss the adults made of sex, it sounded weird and not all that enjoyable.

 

~*~

 

Blowjobs it turned out did not involve blowing on the cock, much to Harry and Neville’s relief. 

In fact, the way Professor Lockhart explained sex, was almost akin to dancing in Harry’s mind. Two bodies entwining with one another to make their own perfect rhythm.

Though thankfully, he wasn’t expected to perform sexually until he was fourteen. For now, all he had to do was learn the theory and memorise techniques.

After the blow job lesson, Lockhart began seeing the boys separately. Introducing them to sex toys and giving them dildo’s to use in private.

“You must learn to explore your body if you want to please your future owner. A consort who is embarrassed by sex is a useless one.” Professor Lockhart informed the class. Lockhart folded his arms across his chest, unamused when the class broke into snickers.

“You are consorts in training, do you think your future owners are going to keep you for long if you laugh like girls when nudity and masturbation are brought up? No, they will simply drop you off in the breeding pens and get someone new to replace you.”

Harry stopped laughing, along with his classmates. The threat of returning to the pens enough to make them take notice. Unconsciously Harry sat straighter in his seat.

He wasn’t about to return to the pens, he  _ wasn’t. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for making to the end!
> 
> Look out for Fire & Ice coming in April! (Future pairing will be Voldemort/Harry)


End file.
